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Aaraaf Allan American angel appeared Baltimore beauty bells Broadway Journal called changed copy dead death deep dream early earth Edgar edition editor evidently fall feel flowers friends give given Graham Graham's Magazine Griswold half hand happy hath head heart Heaven hope hour Insert known late leave letter light lines living look manuscript March mind Museum never night Notes o'er October Omit passion Philadelphia Poe's poem poet poetry printed published Raven reason Review revised Richmond Richmond Examiner seen sent shows sleep song soul sound Southern Literary Messenger speak spirit stanza star sweet Tamerlane thee thine things Thomas thou thought Union Magazine Variations verse voice volume wild wind wings write written wrote York young
196 ページ - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never— nevermore.
24 ページ - In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute"; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute.
63 ページ - HEAR the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
25 ページ - An unimpassioned song; To thee the laurels belong, Best bard, because the wisest! Merrily live, and long! The ecstasies above With thy burning measures suit — Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, With the fervour of thy lute — Well may the stars be mute!
63 ページ - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells ! How it dwells On the Future...
36 ページ - But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued.
84 ページ - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb; And I said— "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
270 ページ - ROMANCE, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been — a most familiar bird — Taught me my alphabet to say — To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie, A child — with a most knowing eye. Of late, eternal Condor years So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares Through gazing on the unquiet sky.